


Claim You Like a Pirate

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Businessman!Thomas, Concussions, Dirty Talk, Father issues, Handyman!James, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Modern Era, One Night Stands, Pirate Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Snark, Summer Holiday, weekend affairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 16:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11467107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: When Thomas goes to his family's beach house for a weekend break the last thing he expects is to share the hottest sex of his life with a stranger he's just met.





	Claim You Like a Pirate

 

 

The first deep shades of late afternoon slips over the beach. The moon is out, early and fresh in the summer sky. The call of a curlew sounds in the distance.

Thomas strolls along the veranda and leans on the railing, breathing in the fresh salt air. _This_ is exactly what he needs. A break from his father’s overpowering business, a brief break from his father really. Technically he’s meant to be working this weekend; he has a whole folder of files to work on, and he has no doubt there will be at least twenty emails waiting when he checks in. But he figures it can wait an hour or so. He’s dying for a swim.

He leans further against the railing, accidentally bumping into a ladder leaning up against the roof as he does. Who’d left that there? It’s a safety hazard leaving a ladder like that.

Thomas gives it an impatient shove with his hand and the ladder tips sideways, heading for the thick rosa rugosa that grow around the side of the house.

"What the fuck!" A tall figure goes flailing sideways into the roses with the ladder and Thomas freezes. 

_Oh. Fuck._

He leans over the porch, staring down at what he’s done. There's a man lying face down in the bushes below, muttering something indistinctly as he thrashes around trying to get free.

"Are you all right?" Thomas calls down with a sinking heart.

The man thrashes some more. "Fucking thorns."

Thomas gives up trying to communicate at this point and races down the outside steps and around the side of the house. _Please don’t be seriously hurt, please, please, please._

By the time he gets down there the man has nearly worked himself free. 

"For fuck’s _sake._ " The man wrenches himself free and nearly topples over as he falls backward from the flowers.

Thomas catches him just in time, grasping him by the arms. He’s aware of the firm weight of the man in his hands, the steady sway of his body against his own.

"There. Are you all right?" He asks again.

The man turns his head and Thomas catches his breath at seeing him, _really_ seeing him. Sea green eyes framed by a piercing gaze, and wavy auburn hair that's just a tad too long. The man has an angular face with creased laugher lines that make Thomas want to trace them with his fingertips. He gazes up at Thomas, due to being just a tad shorter. Exactly the right size to tuck against his arm if they were in bed together, Thomas muses and then dismisses the thought quickly. 

"Hey." The guy says after a moment. His eyes focus hazily on the white cotton shirt Thomas is wearing. "That's a nice shirt. Can I talk you out of it?"

"Excuse me?" Thomas asks, startled, but amused, and then catches the man just before he slumps to the ground.

Thomas scoops him up and carries him into the house. The man's head lolls against his shoulder.

“Dear god, I hope I haven’t killed you.” Thomas breathes. “Please don’t be dead. Please don’t die on me.” If he’s killed the first attractive man he’s seen in months, he’ll never forgive himself. Not that he wants to kill anyone, but especially not this man.

He places the man on the sofa and runs to get a dampened cloth and a glass of water. When he comes back, he gazes down at the man he’s inadvertently injured and is again struck by his handsomeness.

No one has a right to be this handsome.

Thomas paces as he tries to figure out what to do next. He should take him to the hospital, or should he wait? He’d still feel better if the man went to the hospital, but to be fair, the ladder wasn’t that high from the ground. He tries to estimate, fifteen feet? The roses were fairly thick. Which leads him back to the man’s injuries. He’s wearing a brown tank-top and jeans and his arms covered in tiny scratches. Thomas sucks in a remorseful breath.

He goes back to the kitchen, gets another washcloth and a bowl of cool water.

He brings it back to the living room and starts dabbing at the man’s bare arms. There are so many scratches. Christ, his arms are nothing but freckles.

“You just had to be wearing a tank top.” He mutters as he dabs at the scratches. Still in-between the scratches and the blood, he can’t help admiring the man’s muscled shoulders, and the freckles, they trickle down his arms like a starry sky.

The man stirs and Thomas sits back, waiting to see how he is.

The man licks his lips and blinks at Thomas with hazy eyes. “Where am I?”

“Just rest.” Thomas tells him gently. “You had a bit of a bump.”

He offers the glass of water and the man takes it slowly.

“What’s your name?”

“James.” The man mutters, half pushing himself up to look at Thomas. “What happened?”

“You fell off the ladder.” Thomas coughs awkwardly. “I…pushed it, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were on it.”

He tries to add a little levity to the situation to bring the man back to earth. “You were saying something right before you collapsed in my arms if I believe.”

“Was I?” James blinks, and then, "I believe I asked you a question." His mouth curls into a smile at the memory. “And I hadn’t got an answer.”

It’s good he remembers. That’s proof of cognitive something, right?

"Are you flirting with me?" Thomas asks. He’s fairly certain of the answer, but one does like to have these things confirmed.

"That depends?" James still sounds a little hazy.

"On?"

James starts to speak and then pauses as he looks around. "On who you are and where we are?" He looks apologetically at Thomas.

"We're inside my father's beach house." Thomas says. “You were on the roof?” He still has no idea why, but he assumes James has a good reason.

"Your father." James’s gaze sharpens. " _Alfred Hamilton's_ your father?"

"Yes. I'm Thomas," Thomas starts to say and James just rolls off the couch and gets unsteadily to his feet.

Thomas feels a sinking sensation in his chest at the way James said ‘Alfred Hamilton’. Why does this always happen to him. _Fuck._

"Then I’m definitely not flirting with you." James mutters.

Thomas blinks. "What?"

James touches his forehead and winces. "I need to get back to work."

"You're not going back up on that ladder. You probably have a concussion."

James laughs harshly. "Your father's not going to care. I'm supposed to have those roof repairs done by Sunday."

"I don't care.” Thomas stares at him. This is sane. “You're not going up there again."

"I _care_.” James snarls. “I want to get fucking paid for my finished labor which I intend to fucking finish."

They face off, glaring at each other. And Thomas can’t help picturing the situation differently. Imagine facing off against that intensity in bed, having that ferocity moving with him in joined passion? It’s been too long. This is not the time. He shouldn’t be thinking of that.

“Look, you’re either sitting here until I decide you’re not concussed, or I’m taking you into town to the doctor.” Thomas crosses his arms. “Those are the only two options on the table here.”

 _“Fine.”_ James shoots back. He glares at Thomas like he regrets ever setting eyes on him.

“Here.” Thomas nods at the water. “Drink some water.”

“I don’t want water.” James growls. “I want to do my fucking job and you won’t let me.”

“It’s for your own good.” Thomas tells him. “I don’t want you collapsing on me. Again.” He adds, in case the man’s already forgotten that he’s collapsed into his arms once this afternoon.

James mutters something under his breath. He’s pacing in front of the sofa, hands on his hips. Some of the scratches on his arms are still bloody and Thomas itches to tend to them.

Abruptly, he recalls what the man said before he fell into Thomas’s arms. “I’m curious on one point.”

“Oh?” James barely looks at him. He moves to the window, scratching absently at his short beard. “What’s that?”

 

“Why did you say you weren’t flirting with me if I were a Hamilton?”

 

“Have you met your father?” James mutters. He rubs his fingers at his temples.

 

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Thomas says dryly.

 

James eyes him, and then abruptly, his shoulders slump, as though he’s surrendered to inevitability. “Oh, what does it matter?” He sinks back upon the sofa with a sigh. He closes his eyes.

 

“Why do you say it doesn’t matter?” Thomas watches him.

“Well, he’s going to sack me regardless after you tell him I didn’t get the job done on time.” He sounds absolutely thwarted, like there’s no hope to be found there.

“Why would I tell him?”

James blinks. “What? Why wouldn’t you tell your father?”

“Have you met my father?” Thomas mimics his tone and James cracks a smile before it disappears again.

His brow furrows, his gaze narrowing as he considers Thomas’s words. “Are you saying you’re _not_ going to tell him?”

“If you promise to stay off that ladder for the rest of the day, then I give you my word I won’t tell my father what happened today.”

“Your word.” James scoffs. “Am I supposed to believe that?”

Thomas draws himself up indignantly. “Yes, as a matter of fact you are.” He knows the Hamilton name doesn’t mean much in the line of honor, but when it comes to him, it fucking should. He’s not his father.

James just stares up at him. “All right. I accept that.” He leans back, still gazing at Thomas with a curious expression. “You said that water’s for me?”

“Yes.” Thomas nods at it.

James reaches for the glass. He drinks half before he sets it down again and wipes his mouth on the back of his glass. He gazes up at Thomas with a thoughtful look. “So what am I supposed to do while I sit around here?”

 _I can think of a few things_ , Thomas thinks.

He sits on the arm of the chair, looking back at James. “Tell me about yourself.”

James raises an eyebrow and he quickly adds, “How’d you come to work for my father?”

“He wanted the roof redone over the summer. I got the job. I just have a few final touches left.” His brow has creased again at the thought, and Thomas feels like an idiot for bringing up his father again.

 “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you feel guilty. It’s not your fault there’s this delay.”

James just shakes his head. He sits back again, gazing at Thomas. “What’re you doing here?”

“I’m here for the weekend.” Thomas says absently. His eyes drift to the files he’s supposed to be working on and he sighs under his breath. “Ostensibly for a holiday, but…”

“Some work you’re trying to avoid there?” James asks innocently.

Thomas shrugs and rises to his feet. He still wants to go for a swim. The beach is calling him with its siren song.

James places an arm along the back of the sofa, watching him as he paces. “You’re really not going to tell your father about me hitting on you and not finishing my work today?”

“I gave you my word, didn’t I?” Thomas murmurs. And then he glances at James. “Besides, you didn’t hit on me, really. I’m a Hamilton, remember.” There’s a faint note of scorn there. He can’t help it. It just slips out.

James cocks his head slightly, gazing at him with interest. “Oh, I was hitting on you.”

Thomas stops dead and looks at him straight on. “What?”

“I mean, I was slightly unconscious, but,” James shrugs. “It wasn’t my best line either.”

“Oh.” Thomas says, interested in spite of himself. “And if you hadn’t been on the verge of unconsciousness, what would you have said?”

There’s a trace of a smirk on James’s lips. “Sure you want to know?”

Thomas grins. This is promising. “Tell me.”

“Before you do, you should know, that I have a high success rate based on how ridiculous and yet how appealing people find them.”

“Just tell me the damn pickup line.” Thomas tells him, impatiently.

James’s lips twitch faintly and then he murmurs. “Treat me like a pirate and give me that booty.”

Thomas stares at him in utter surprise and then he just starts laughing uproariously. It’s outrageous. He can’t believe James said that to him with a straight face. There are tears in his eyes; he can’t stop them.

“I told you.” James drawls.

“Are you serious? That actually works on people.” Thomas wipes at his eyes. His cheeks hurt from laughing.

“You’d be surprised.” James grins at his amusement.

“And do you follow up?” Thomas asks, jokingly. “Do you act like a pirate and claim your prize?” He expects another laughing response, some joke or quip.

Instead James just looks up at him with a long, contemplative look. “Would you like that?”

Thomas catches his breath.

“Does that really work for you?” Thomas asks again; he can’t help it.

James’s smirk is there, but amused. “You’d be surprised.” He shrugs. “There’s a lot of tourist action in this town during the summer season.”

“So you’re saying you…” Thomas pauses delicately, trying to decide if he can ask what he wants to know. He definitely wants to know.

He definitely _wants_ to sleep with James. And he feels, he’s almost certain, that’s what’s on offer here. But he doesn’t want to presume.

“Are you asking if I’m a slut?” James sounds amused.

“No.” Thomas flushes. “I didn’t mean.”

“I only sleep with people I want to.” James informs him. “And the majority of the townsfolk are not the type that meet my standards or preferences.”

“Ah, right, I see.” Thomas nods. He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or disappointed.

“You do though.” James says almost off-handedly.

At that Thomas can feel his blush rolling low over his face. It’s faint but there, a hangover from his schooldays anytime someone he really fancied actually fancied him back.

“Ah…would you like a drink?”

“Yes.”

Thomas escapes into the kitchen for a moment. Right, this might actually be happening here. He’s eager but trying to play it cool. It’s been a while, well, yes, quite a while. He hasn’t had time, too busy working. He’s usually too tired to go out, and the thought of trying to meet someone new…

But now he’s here, he’s free for the weekend, and he could totally do this.

“Just relax.” He tells himself. “Relax and have a good time. You can do this.”

“Is that a pep talk or an invitation?”

Thomas jerks around to see James standing there in the doorway watching him with a curious look.

“Ah, well, I …” Thomas pauses. “It’s been a while since.” He gestures vaguely towards the beer and James just looks amused.

Belatedly Thomas looks down at the bottle. “Should you even be having one of these?” He asks worriedly. “How’s your head?”

“Clear. Focused.” James says. “Focused entirely on you.”

Thomas stares at him. “Really?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Well, seeing that a few minutes ago you didn’t want to even flirt with me because my name is Hamilton and now you’re basically agreeing to fuck me…” Thomas pauses as the thought sinks in, dark and ugly. “Or is that it? You think it’d be funny to fuck me and then tell my father?” He should have fucking thought of that before. How could he have been so careless?

“What? No!” James looks appalled at the mere suggestion. He could be telling the truth, but how is Thomas to tell? How can he believe a complete stranger?

“Look, this was all a mistake.” Thomas says, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. “You should just go.”

James just looks at him and then shrugs at him. “Fine.” He turns and just goes out the back door towards the porch.

Thomas stands there for a moment and then puts the beers back in the fridge. He half turns to go after him, still concerned over James’s head, but he had seemed fine. So Thomas will trust that he’s fine and let it go.

He goes through to the living room and just sinks down on the sofa with a sigh. What a fucking joke. He could have had really good sex tonight. Somehow he _knows_ it would have been really good with James; just from everything, from the way his arms looked in that top, to the sure set of his shoulders, to the way his mouth curved in a smile. So many perfect little things.

He sighs again and turns over, lying on his back to stare at the ceiling. What a shitty turn of events.

 *  *  *

Thomas lies there for a short time and then finally pushes himself up. He’s wasting his precious weekend by mooning over a man he doesn’t even know. He makes himself go upstairs, get undressed and showers perfunctorily. 

Afterward he pulls on a pair of pajama bottoms but no shirt. It’s that warm a night. He still wants a beer so he gets one and then goes back out to the veranda.

The night air is calm and balmy, warm on his skin. He gazes out at the dark ocean, the thin white strand of beach laid out below him. Thomas leans on the railing and takes a sip of beer.

Slowly his eyes adjust to the dark and he starts to realize there’s a figure out in the dark waves. A pale lithe figure, swimming in the dark blue. And then the figure strikes through the waves back to shore, approaching the beach.

Thomas draws in a sharp, hungry breath as the naked shape of James comes striding out of the dark sea.

He walks over to his abandoned pile of clothes that Thomas hadn’t noticed sitting on the beach. Thomas watches as he starts to dry off with his t-shirt. In the pale moonlight James is a vision. A glorious nude figure in the night, from his broad shoulders to the proud curve of his hips, and there, god, his thighs. Thomas can barely look away, but there between James’s thighs rests his cock. Thomas draws in a soft sigh at the sight of it. He can’t help wondering what it would taste like, the hot feel of it in his hand, the thick weight of him against his body.

James drags his tank top over his chest, drying off his skin, and then he happens to glance up. He pauses at the sight of Thomas on the veranda, watching him.

Thomas freezes.

James stands there, just gazing up at him. “Evening.”

“Evening.” Thomas responds out of habit, good manners ingrained in him more than anything else.

James hesitates, and then suddenly he pulls his tank top over his head and reaches for his jeans.

Thomas hesitates as well, wondering if he should go, and then James is moving purposefully towards the house. Like he has one clear purpose and won’t be deterred no matter the cost.

Thomas watches breathlessly as James climbs up the side of the house. He’s fucking hanging from the railing, just below the porch, gazing up at Thomas with hungry eyes. “Do you still want to know the answer to that question?”

_“Do you act like a pirate and claim your prize?”_

Thomas gazes at him. “Yes.”

“Yes.” James tells him, his eyes fixed on Thomas, then with a soft intensity, “If the prize wants to be claimed.”

He’s asking, he’s returned for Thomas after being rejected and he’s _here_ and he’s _asking_ and Thomas smiles.

“Yes.” He says. God, yes.

James leans up and claims his mouth in a deep forceful kiss. His tongue slides into Thomas’s mouth, like they’ve known each other for years. It’s familiar, it’s intimate, torn apart and returning to each other, and now Thomas is breathlessly hard just from the pressure and yearning.

They pull apart at last, and James stares at him with breathless want.

Thomas grips his shirt suddenly. “Come over the railing before you fall again.”

James grins. “Kiss me again.”

“Stop teasing.” Thomas says, but he kisses him again, holding firmly to James’s shirt as he does.

This time as they break apart, James complies and climbs over the railing and lands on the porch with a solid thud. He looks at Thomas with expectant yet wary eyes.

Thomas reaches for him again. “Do you want that beer now?” He asks softly, “Or do you want to go straight to bed?”

James grins and leans into his kiss like it’s expected, like his mouth belongs here, against Thomas’s mouth. “Can I have both?”

“I don’t know.” Thomas says. He watches James’s eyes fall before he adds, “You’re the pirate.”

James grins wide and then catches him by the wrist. “How far do you want me to take that?”

“I….” Thomas hesitates. He’s drawn to James enough already, they don’t _have_ to go along with a scenario, but at the same time he’s aroused at the thought. “As far as you want it to go.” He says boldly.

And it’s worth it for James’s eyes to widen. He takes a step forward, crowding Thomas against the railing, held by his body, his breath warm on Thomas’s skin.

“Any time you want to stop, just say stop. Okay?”

Thomas shivers and when he doesn’t respond immediately, James nips at his ear. “Well?”

“Okay.” Thomas manages at last.

“Good.” James nods and then his hand is on Thomas, pinning him there to the railing as he reaches over for Thomas’s beer and brings it up to his mouth. Thomas watches mesmerized at the pulsing motion of his throat as he drinks and then sets the bottle down.

James wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and then looks at Thomas with hungry commanding eyes. “Where’s your captain’s cabin?”

Thomas opens his mouth and then he jerks his head towards the hall. “This way.”

James waits.

At that Thomas gulps. “This way, sir.” He shouldn’t grow harder at saying that, but he does.

James’s grin is a wild, keen flash before it’s gone, and then he lets Thomas lead the way. Thomas with his legs trembling, his arousal still evident as he goes. He’s only wearing pajama trousers and nothing under that at all.

He leads the way down the hallway to the master bedroom. The only place for a pirate captain to fuck any one at all.

When he reaches the bedroom, Thomas switches the light on and stands aside as James enters and surveys the room, his gaze lingering on the large bed before he looks back at Thomas.

“And how did you come to be on this ship?”

Thomas hesitates. “I was a passenger, sir.”

James quirks an eyebrow. “Indeed.” He turns and looks at Thomas more fully, a lengthy sweep of his body that leaves Thomas flushed and embarrassed and aroused.

“You’re a lord’s son, are you not? Whatever caused you to leave the safety and civilization of London?”

“I’ve always wanted to see the world.” Thomas admits to him.

James smirks at him. “And you will.” He nods at the bed. “Get on the bed.”

“Is that what you say to all of your captives?” Thomas asks boldly.

 “Only the pretty ones.” James’s smirk widens. “Those who want to live.”

“So… you want me to whore myself out for my survival?” Thomas is thoroughly caught up in this situation. He can picture it so clearly. James, a swaggering pirate captain and himself, the young highborn passenger. His dick grows more and more interested and he swells at the front of his pajama trousers.

“That depends.” James says. “How badly do you want to survive?” he sounds casual, almost disinterested in Thomas’s reply. “If you don’t accept, I can always give you back to my crew.”

He half turns towards the door, and Thomas quickly grabs at his arm. “No.”

James looks down at his hand on his arm and then up at Thomas with a stern smile.

“I believe I already gave you a command.”

Thomas removes his hand and goes over to the bed. Slowly he lies down upon it.

James comes over to him and sits down beside him. He strips off his clothes quickly, discarding them on the floor, a few brief moments.

Thomas tenses in anticipation at the sight of his flushed cock.

James crawls up the bed between his thighs and straddles him. “Have you ever been fucked before, my young lord?”

Thomas hesitates. “Yes.” He says finally. It might have been more in keeping with the game if he had said no and played the virgin for a pirate captain to claim and thoroughly ravage, but in the true spirit of the scenario they’re in, he feels he _would_ have. If he were a lord’s son in that day and age, and still himself, absolutely he would have risked his neck for love, and dared to fuck men. And he would have definitely dared it all for one kiss from James. He knows that deep down in the hollow of his gut.

James raises an eyebrow.  “Indeed. And how was that?”  He presses meaningfully against Thomas’s crotch with his own, showing Thomas just precisely how hard he is.

Thomas sucks in a breath. “I enjoyed it.”

Sparks dance in James’s eyes. “Are you afraid?”

Thomas pauses. He imagines it. The pirate ship’s captain claims the ship he’s on, slaughtering the entire crew, and now his very life is deeply in peril. He could die here tonight, if he doesn’t surrender to this man and give him his body. But with his father back in London, and him here, there is still a chance, a new possibility, a very real chance of a new life in a new world.

“Yes, and no.” he breathes. “I’m terrified, but also intrigued by the notion of a new life, of leaving the old one and my name behind.” That last part just slips out.

Something like understanding flickers in James’s eyes. He leans down and presses a hand along Thomas’s jaw, cradling it softly in his palm. “If you’re bold enough, I can offer that.”

Thomas answers by leaning up to his mouth. He can feel James grinning against his mouth and then James is pressing him down upon the bed, pressing hard into the mattress, his hips full on Thomas’s and then his hand dips between Thomas’s thighs, stroking his cock.

Thomas gasps. He starts to reach for the ties on his pajama bottoms and James pulls his hand away, nudging it above his head.

Thomas obeys while James slides down his chest to tug at the ties _with his fucking teeth_ and then James draws them down, freeing his cock, bold as anything. James licks his lips in anticipation and raises his gaze to Thomas.

“Ever had your cock sucked by a pirate captain?” He asks, teasingly.

Thomas licks his lips. “No, never.”

“Good.” James nods. And then he lowers his head and Thomas bucks his hips with a gasp as James’s hand slides under his ass to scoop up one of his cheeks, propping him up as he sucks noisily at Thomas’s ready cock.

 _Oh fucking christ._ Thomas arches his back and tries not to scream aloud with pleasure. How is this evening happening? How did he get so lucky? He’s half convinced it’s a dream. If it weren’t for James’s blunt nails biting into the soft ripe flesh of his ass, just enough pain to keep him anchored there in reality, he’d definitely swear it’s a dream.

James draws off to tease at the jut of his hipbone, teeth grazing over Thomas’s stomach and then up to a nipple, making Thomas gasp even harder. His tongue swirls and catches at the nub, tormenting it, until Thomas’s back arches high, his toes pressed bracingly against the bed.

“You were a passenger.” James murmurs. “Where were you traveling to?”

“Are you really making conversation right now?” Thomas gasps.

“You’d be surprised. A pirate captain doesn’t get many opportunities for good conversation while at sea.”  He bites lazily at Thomas’s nipple. “Especially with a lord’s son.”

“I was traveling for my father, on his business.” Thomas can’t help his disappointment and frustration from his words and he knows James can hear it.

“And now that you’re away from your father?”  James sets his teeth to Thomas’s collarbone next

“I feel free.” Thomas breathes as James’s tease delicately along his flesh.

“Even though you’re currently the captive of a feared pirate captain?” James drags his tongue along Thomas’s throat, making him hiss with the friction.

“Still freer than I’ve ever been before.” Thomas says and it’s true. It’s one of the truest things he’s ever known and it’s appalling how true that is, he realizes. How can that be true? And yet it is.

He presses hotly against James’s body, seeking more friction, more everything.

“You’re meant for the sea to claim.” James whispers, biting hungrily at his throat, his hand dipping between Thomas’s thighs, encircling his cock and stroking him with his rough fist. Thomas groans, nearly doubling over with his lust, rocking into James’s fist.

“Did you like being fucked before?” James breathes upon his skin, the words fluttering away.

Thomas nods, his teeth sinking into his lower lip, eagerly anticipating the thick press of James’s cock in him.

“Do you want to be fucked?” James asks, gazing at Thomas meaningfully. He’s seeking assurance here, absolutely making sure that Thomas knows he can halt this here if he doesn’t want this, and Thomas feels a wave of affection though he barely knows the man who’s gazing down at him.

“I want you to fuck me, captain.” He says huskily, and James’s eyes flare in ready need.

“Fuck me.” Thomas presses hungrily, wanting James to know he needs this.

So James does, flipping him over flat on his stomach, pushing his legs apart.

“Where’s your lube? Condoms?” He asks and Thomas burns with embarrassment for not being the one to have mentioned it.

“I…” He turns over. “Upstairs, second bedroom on the left. My suitcase is on the bed. It’ll have both.”

James sits back and looks at him curiously. “You’re not sleeping in here?”

Thomas shakes his head. “This is my father’s room.” He’s still not sure what had made him lead James in here when he’d asked, but he’d said, ‘show me your captain’s cabin’ and here they were. This was the biggest bedroom in the house and it’s pure defiance. To do this here, to fuck in his father’s bed with a man he barely knows, to spread his legs and beg for his cock. It’s all an act of defiance.

James smiles as he realizes what Thomas is thinking. “Don’t move.” He reaches down to squeeze Thomas’s dick gently. “Don’t even think of touching this. It belongs to me now.”

Thomas watches him with open-mouthed surprise.

“Did you hear me?” James says, squeezing the tip just enough to make Thomas gasp, wet and helpless.

“Yes, yes, I won’t.”

“You won’t _what_.” James squeezes again, this time drawing a sharp, keening sound from him.

“I won’t touch myself.”

“Because?”

Flames heat Thomas’s cheeks; he’s so aroused he can barely speak, but James is waiting for his response. “Because my cock belongs to you, Captain.”

James smiles in satisfaction. “Good.” He finally releases Thomas and slides off the bed. “I’ll return shortly.”

Thomas lies in stunned silence, watching him until he’s out of the room and then he just rolls over and buries his face in the pillow, unable to believe he’s really doing this even now.

His cock throbs between his legs and he glances down at it. What would James do if he were to touch himself? He can only imagine.  A pirate captain would be full of inventive punishments for a captive who disobeyed his explicit orders.

Thomas moans a little and tries to quiet himself. This is ridiculous. He doesn’t _even_ know James, but this is somehow the hottest situation he’s ever found himself in.

James finally returns and for a moment he stands there, surveying his prize.

“Do I need to tie you? Or will you surrender willingly?”

Thomas’s mouth is dry. “I…surrender willingly.”

James nods at him. “Turn over then and show yourself to me.”

 _Fuck_. Thomas rolls over on his stomach quickly before James can see just how much of an effect that had on him.

He feels the shift in the weight of the bed as James settles behind him.

“I gave you an order.”

Thomas shivers, and then slowly, reaches both hands behind himself to part his ass cheeks. He’s glad he’s not looking at James for this because his face is so red he feels as though he’ll burst.

The weight on the bed shifts again and then James’s hand is there, pressing against his hole.

“So tight.” James murmurs. “Shall I fuck you dry, and make you beg for release, or would you like oil, like the proper little nobleman’s son that you are”

Thomas buries his moan in his arms, trying to control himself.

“Well?”

“Please, the oil.” Thomas manages.

“You do beg so prettily.” James muses. He opens the lube and Thomas hears the wet sound of it as he pours some into his hand. And then James nudges his hands away, and he grips the pillows instead.

James’s fingers ease into him, making him gasp.

James laughs. “Look at you. Merely two fingers and I bet I could make you come just like this. You’re so eager for it.”

Thomas grips the pillow harder, trying not to beg further as James stretches him. Fuck, it’s been so long. But even the last time he did this (three tepid dates with a man at a neighboring business office) the sex hadn’t been that good and the conversation even less so.

He could come from James’s voice alone, saying those words to him. His body would just spontaneously combust he’s fairly certain.

Fortunately he doesn’t have to come from that alone. Not when there’s James’s cock too. A cock that’s going to be in him shortly. Thomas licks his lips in anticipation as James eases his fingers back out.

Sure hands smooth over his cheeks, spreading him open wider and Thomas licks his lips again. James grunts faintly as he presses the tip of his cock against him. The first inch inside him makes Thomas bite down hard. His hips rock forward as James slides further.

James hums softly as he pets his thigh. “Are you doing all right?”

Thomas turns his head to look at him. “Is that what pirate captains ask in times like these?”

James smiles. “When they’re fucking sons of London lords, perhaps.” He wiggles his hips slightly and Thomas groans. “Do you want some more then?”

“Yes.” Thomas says determinedly.

So James presses further and Thomas sucks in a breath, dropping his head back against the pillow.

“Christ.”

James’s fingers grip his buttocks as he slides back out and then again. Thomas closes his eyes as he sets up a steady, punishing pace. His cock is so hard against his belly.

James just keeps rocking into him. Thomas’s body clenches reflexively around the thick pulse of James’s cock, moving inside him, until James spills inside him with a sigh. He slumps across his back and Thomas groans at the pressure of his cock pressed against the sheets. He’s still hard, damn it.

James eases out of him and rolls over. Thomas is dimly aware of him removing the condom and slinging it in the rubbish.

And then James rolls him over and Thomas has nowhere to hide, his cock flushed and dripping.

James crouches over him, brushing his knuckles over the tip of him. “How much do you want to get off?”

Thomas bites his lip. “Very much.”

“Very much.” James mimics. “Is that you ask your whores to satisfy you my lord? Is that how you ask your lovers to take you in hand?”

Thomas moans as James wraps his palm around his heated shaft. “I don’t….”

“Or do they always tell you what to do?” James leans down to breathe right upon his tip. “Tell me what you want, Thomas?”

It’s the first time he’s said his name in a while and it sends heat rolling up over his belly, flaming his skin with rising lust.

“I want your mouth.” Thomas breathes. He can’t take his eyes off James’s mouth.

James smiles. “Your wish is my command.” He drops a kiss on Thomas’s thigh and then he lowers his head.

Thomas gasps as James takes him all the way down. His whole cock is in his mouth, James has claimed him utterly. His fingers tangle in James’s hair, begging him for more, more, more.

James gives him a slight pinch on his thigh as though to remind him what he wanted to hear.

“I need to come. James, please.”

James makes an approving noise so Thomas keeps going.

“Your mouth feels so good, but I could have come from your cock alone if you had just kept going. You make me feel so good, James. Christ, your mouth feels so good, and now I’m just dying to come. James, _pleas_ e.”

He’s pleading loudly enough that if he were home in London he’d be worried about the neighbors hearing. But he’s not in London. He’s miles away. No one’s going to hear, no one’s going to complain. It doesn’t matter in the slightest and Thomas revels in it.

James’s fingers caress his hip then move upwards and Thomas reaches for his hand without thinking about. His fingers slide between James’s, interlocking and drawing them close. James’s eyes flicker upwards briefly, looking at him and then he grazes his teeth along the underside of Thomas’s cock and Thomas comes with a soft moan, smothered in the pillows.

James crawls back up him with a satisfied expression and kisses Thomas’s mouth.

He collapses beside Thomas, draping an arm over him. He’s warm and large and Thomas doesn’t want him to ever move. They lie there in the spacious width of the bed together, James’s fingers stroking idly over Thomas’s chest.

 _I just fucked a complete stranger in my father’s bed_ , Thomas thinks. He wonders if he should feel guilty. He doesn’t remotely feel guilty. Instead he feels light and free.

He turns his head and looks over at James.

“Should I go?” James asks softly, his eyes on Thomas’s face, waiting for an answer.

“Do you want to go?” Thomas asks back.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me.” James murmurs, smiling drowsily at him.

 _How does forever sound?_ Thomas thinks, but keeps it to himself. It’s a bit quick even for him. This is just a one night stand after all. But he can’t help thinking as he lays there, James’s arm over his chest, James already asleep beside him, that it could be the start of something wonderful.

 

 

 


End file.
